Prague is truly one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But hidden behind the baroque architecture and pastel facades are mysterious stories and locations that dive into Prague’s darker side. Any city as old as this is bound to have more than a few ghost stories. Walking the streets of Prague at night, the city will change before your eyes. What was once a stunning bridge of old statues becomes and haunting silhouette. The statue’s eyes even seem to follow you as you walk. But there is something about being a little scared that is also so exciting. And a ghost tour is one of the best ways to spend an evening.
This self-guided walking tour will take you through the legends of Prague’s Mala Strana, or ‘Little Quarter.‘ Whether you believe in ghosts or not, these stories are a fun way to learn about the spirits that may still haunt Prague today!
The Charles Bridge is undoubtedly the most famous location in Prague. Thousands of tourists walk across the cobblestone pathway every day. But upon the stones, they tread on some of the city’s darkest history. The Charles Bridge is perhaps most infamous for being the place where St. John of Nepomuk was martyred. John of Nepomuk had been the confessor of the queen of Bohemia. When the king demanded John divulge her secrets, he denied the king. Nepomuk could not break the sacred nature of holy confession, even for the king. The king was furious and condemned Nepomuk to death for his audacity.
Nepomuk was thrown from Charles Bridge into the Vlatava River, where he drowned. Ever since that moment, the bridge was thought to be cursed by the king’s evil doings. The bridge would continually collapse into the river. Even with the most modern construction technology, any attempt to prevent destruction ended badly.
The Kings of Bohemia didn’t know what to do. The bridge connected the two sides of the city together. It was a crucial access point for travellers. They couldn’t simply ignore this problem. One day, an ambitious young stonemason came forward, saying he could remedy the issue. But with all of his best efforts, the bridge continued to collapse. At his wit’s end, the stonemason was worried his failure would prove fatal. He had promised the king he would be the only one to finally solve this problem.
One night while at the construction site, the devil appeared in front of the stonemason and offered him an exchange. He would ensure the bridge would never collapse if the stonemason would sacrifice the first soul who crossed the devil’s bridge. The stonemason carefully agreed.
Once the bridge was complete, the stonemason wanted to ensure no unsuspecting soul was lost. And he certainly didn’t like the soul to be his own. So, thinking he could trick the devil, he went to the market to buy an animal. He hoped to force the animal to cross the bridge, so the devil would instead take the animal’s soul.
But the devil wasn’t so easily fooled, and he saw what the stonemason was plotting. The devil disguised himself as an old woman and went to the stonemason’s house where his pregnant wife lived. The devil, dressed as the old woman, told the stonemasons’ wife that the mason had been severely injured on the bridge. In terror for her husband’s life, the wife ran to the bridge. Seeing him on the other side, she crossed it. When the stonemason looked up to see her running across the completed bridge, he knew it was too late.
The wife went into labour early, but the child would never see the light of day. She died in childbirth, and both the mother and son’s souls would have been lost forever to the devil. In horror and riddled with guilt, the stonemason threw himself into the river and committed suicide. But after that day, the bridge never collapsed again. The contract with the devil having been fulfilled.
Another dark story from the bridge’s past relates to the massive Bohemian revolt of 1612. During this period, the Bohemian people fought against the Habsburg rule, starting the Thirty Years War. During the uprising in Prague, 27 leaders organized a rebellion against the Habsburg Emperor. Once their plot was discovered, they were executed; twelve were beheaded, and fifteen were hanged.
This was a shocking event for the Czech people. These executed men were not just any old thief or murdered, but were highly important; professors, noblemen, scholars, and businessmen. Their heads were placed in iron baskets on the Old Town Bridge Tower. They supposedly remained there for over a decade. This scene would undoubtedly have been one of the grimmest sights to see over ten years. And souls seemed to latch themselves to the bridge itself. Today, when crossing at night, see if you can spot any brave men’s ghostly figures.
To the left of Charles Bridge, you descend down along the water’s edge. This part of a town seems packed with evil spirits, and an otherwise charming waterway has a rather nefarious name. They call it ‘Čertovka,’ which in English means the “Devil’s Stream.” The name is supposedly derived from a nearby house, which was called ‘U semi čertů‘ or “At the Seven Devils.” Along Čertovka, you’ll find remnants of an old medieval mill. This mill used the water along the canal to power it’s waterwheel in the 12th century.
As you pass by the old mill, listen closely to see if you can hear the eternal squawking of the “Fiery Turkey.” On one Good Friday evening, when all the good Catholics were obligated to fast, the weak-willed miller was hungry. He loved to eat meat and, most of all, turkey. Unfortunately, he also kept a turkey as a pet. In a fit of hunger, he killed and ate his friend.
Shortly after finishing his sinful dinner, the miller had a gall bladder attack and died right there on the spot inside the mill. When the townspeople came to see what the racket was about, they found the miller dead, with his pet turkey standing upon his belly, cackling loudly into the night. Almost as a warning to those who would think of also breaking their fast.
It seems as though the mill itself is a powerful dark force as a myriad of other evil tales pop up in its history. Another miller who once lived here had a beautiful but vain daughter. Despite being born into relative poverty, all she dreamed of was becoming rich and powerful. She had an idea to get an invitation to the Gentlewomen’s Ball held every year at Lichtenštejn Palace. There, the young daughter imagined she would meet a rich man and marry him, ensuring her nobility. But despite all her father’s best efforts, he could not find a way to get her an invitation to the ball as a commoner.
At her wit’s end, the daughter made a deal with the devil. He agreed to give her an invitation to the ball in exchange for her soul. But even with this supernatural intervention, no one inside would dance or pay her any mind. She was still a miller’s daughter. This flagrant disregard and knowing what she had done to her soul for naught caused the daughter to fall into a fit of rage, and she was expelled from the palace by the guards.
The miller’s daughter never got over the ordeal and died inside the nearby mill in a state of madness. But the devil doesn’t forget, and her ghost is said to return to the Lichtenštejn Palace to do the devil’s bidding. People claim that they have seen her rude ghost chasing after young men during festive events, wailing as she goes. While she might simply pursue the men, she is outwardly violent towards young, beautiful, and mostly wealthy women. They represent everything she had been so desperate to have and sold her soul to achieve. She has been known to attack women, bite and scatch them until they can get away. She haunts the palace around midnight so keep your wits about you if you pass by around that time.
If you see a strange creature with his feet resting in the water asking for a beer, near the Devil’s Stream, you might have run into Karbourek, the Water Sprite. The sprite visited Prague hundreds of years ago. It was once a cheerful creature, indulging in drinks with other drunkards in Mala Strana. He was peaceful and kindhearted, and bartenders would leave him a glass of beer whenever they saw him.
But as time has gone on and bars have closed or have forgotten the legend, the sprite has turned tasty. Karbourek lurks around in the river but will surface every so often when he gets thirsty for beer. Unless you have a drink to offer the creature, it’s best to stay away. If you spot the sprite and offer him a beer, he is known to reward those good samaritans with a pike or eel from the river. Karbourek has become so famous in this area that there is even a wooden statue created in his likeness on the mill’s edge.
Along Karmelitska Street, you’ll find the Czech Museum of Music, which is now home to more than one of Prague’s infamous ghosts. In the 17th-century, the building was originally the convent of St. Mary Magdalene. But this convent was home to some truly cruel nuns and one in particular. In life, this nun was in charge of taking children from their mothers. This started innocently enough. The nuns aimed to help unwed mothers give up their babies to find good, “proper” homes.
Perhaps influenced by the darkness that lurked in the nearby Devils stream, the nuns were soon corrupted by greed. They began selling the children of these unwed mothers off into indentured servitude or workhouses and kept the money from themselves. They were known to host ostentatious and lavish parties with their earning. Their greed seemed unquenchable. Eventually, one of the cruellest of the nuns began tricking mothers into giving up their babies. If she was there during the birth, she would claim the baby was stillborn, even if it was not and then quickly sell the newborn off for coin. If that didn’t work, she would even resort to kidnapping children.
When the nun finally died, her soul was damned forever, and her ghost still lurks these streets, unable to ever find peace. They say only children can see her, so if you spot a child speaking to no one, be sure to rush them away as her ghost is still known to spirit away children, never to be seen again.
In the 18th century, the convent was deconsecrated, and the building was used as housing for the poor. Many actors and actresses moved into the apartments as the rent was cheap and close to nearby theatres. One of these actresses is known better known as the “headless ghost of Mala Strana.” In life, she was one of the most beautiful women in Prague. Her husband was a jealous man and hated watching her performances filled with dozens of love-struck admirers. His jealousy reached a peak point when the actress courted a rich count after her show. When she came home, her husband promptly cut off her head in a resentful fit of rage. Now her ghost haunts the building, looking endlessness for her lost head, the source of all her beauty.
Further along, Karmelitská Street is a wicked looking ghost known to stick her tongue out at affluent visitors. The story goes that the woman, Mrs. Kuliček, was once the wife of a great city. The two lived together on Karmelitská Street. Mr. Kuliček had made a good living as an official of public health while he was alive. But when he died suddenly, he left his wife with little money, save for their home. Mrs. Kuliček had no practical skills to speak of, as most women were just housekeepers. She was too old to remarry and quickly running out of money to keep the lifestyle she had become used to.
Seeing no other option, Mrs. Kuliček turned their large apartments into a giant brothel. Since the house was located in a reasonably well to do part of town, it would garner higher-end clientele. But Mrs. Kuliček, now the establishment’s madam, wasn’t too decerning about who she let service the men inside the brothel. As the wife of a public health official, you would have thought she would have been more aware of women who carried disease, but Mrs. Kuliček cared only for money!
One very wealthy man came and asked him to be greeted by a “pure” woman. Most brothel workers were plagued with “social diseases,” such as syphilis and gonorrhea. The madam took the man’s money anyway, tricking one of her employees into lying to the nobleman about her purity.
When the wealthy nobleman came down with syphilis a few weeks later, he was furious. Syphilis was incurable, and he knew he would die in a short matter of time. He broke into the apartments and tied the woman’s hands behind her back and nailed her tongue to the bedroom door to punish her “sinful tongue.” When he left, he hung a “quarantine” sign above the door so no one would enter and find the poor woman. She died inside of her wounds, a slow horrible death. If you see Mrs. Kuliček pass you by and stick out her tongue, look closely. You might be horrified to see that nail is still stuck right through her tongue!
Head up Hellichova street, towards Petrin Hill and proceed up hillside pathway. This peaceful park is truly haunting at night when the sun goes down, and only a few lamps and the moonlight are there to guide your way. Petrin Hill, hundreds of years ago, was home to a pagan altar. Here, pagans would sacrifice young, beautiful virgins to their gods, burning them alive atop the altar. When Prince Boleslav came to power in Bohemia, his aim was to eradicate any of the remaining pagans who refused to convert to Christianity, despite being raised by a pagan mother himself.
The Petrin Hill altar was destroyed, and a great Christian cathedral was even built nearby to further rub salt in the wound. But the ghosts of the pagans and those women burned alive still haunt the hill to mock Prince Boleslav. Self-contained fires are known to break out along the hill and burn mysteriously without any remains being found afterwards. Faces have been seen in the fires, laughing maniacally at the viewer. The fires last about 20 minutes, and then they disappear, so keep your eyes peeled as you go!
Along Pohořelec street, near Strahov Monastery, keep your eyes peeled for a headless ghost followed by a hound with someone curious in its mouth… This duo’s legend is a classic tale of greed and betrayal. A beautiful, young woman married an old, ugly but wealthy man. Soon after their marriage was official, the woman began plotting to kill her husband and steal his riches. He came home one day, and she took an axe to his head. But the man had had suspicions about her from the start, and when he died, she had found that the man had hidden all his gold. The woman died in poverty but came back as a hound who drags the headless man’s head around, taunting him into finally revealing the secret treasure’s location.
Černín Palace was once home to one of the cruellest countesses Prague has ever known. Although she might not have committed any murders, her truly selfish and abusive behaviour towards her fellow citizens was abominable. Černín Palace, now home to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, was built in the 1660s by diplomat Humprecht Jan Černín z Chudenic, the Habsburg imperial ambassador to Venice and Rome. Chudenic was incredibly vain and saw himself as more important than even the emperor. He built his palace in a location that was just higher up than Prague Castle, making his palace almost more grand than the royal court itself.
Chudenic was also a stingy man and refused to sign any contract or agree to pay until the work was finished. This was perhaps more common back in the day before labours laws were put in place to protect the blue-collar workers. But when Chudenic died, suddenly, there was no one left who had had contact with the construction crew and knew that they were owed a large sum of money. So, left with no other choice, the workers contacted a local medium who performed a seance to bring the spirit of Chudenic back from the dead. He was raised up and forced to sign the contracts from the beyond, so work on the palace could be finished, and the workers were finally paid. Perhaps this seance opened the door to the other world, and many speculate this connection was never properly closed.
Chudenics’ daughter became the countess of the palace. She was known to dramatically flaunt her wealth. She would bath in litres and litres of milk when milk was considered one of the most expensive imports. When the great famine of 1770 broke out in Bohemia, she had shoes made of bread that she would wear out on the town, to mock the starving peasants. Even the devil was shocked by her outright cruelty and sent nine of his demons through the open gateway to punish her.
One night, as she danced down the halls of her ostentatious palace in her bread shoes, the nine demons dragged her to hell for neglecting those in need. People claim you can still hear her blood-curdling screams down the palace’s halls as she is forced to dance for eternity in those uncomfortable bread shoes. Her ghost is known mainly to visit at midnight when the palace is closed to the public. But even so, be warned; never dance with her as she will drag you both back down to the underworld.
Across the street from the Černín Palace is the Loreto Sanctuary. Built in 1626, the Loreta Sancturay is a holy place of pilgrimage most famous for its clock tower and carillon. But before the church was built, legend has it that this site was once a pagan altar where one of the greatest pagan priestesses of Prague, Princess Drahomíra of Stodor, was sucked down into the netherworld. Like Černín Palace, this marked this site as a place where spirits are known to cross over.
27 bells in total were installed in the tower in 1694. A woman who lived nearby the church thought it exceptionally lucky as she had exactly 27 children. She named each of the bells after one of her children, the largest corresponding to her eldest child and each subsequent smaller bell to her other children. Legend has it during the great plague of 1713, the women’s eldest daughter fell ill to the disease. The mother went to the church in distress and placed one silver coin in the prayer box and prayed for her daughter’s life. As she sat there, the largest of the bells rang out, and when the mother got home, her eldest daughter was dead.
The same pattern continued for each of her children, one would fall ill, and she would go to the church, place a silver coin in the prayer box, and the bell corresponding to that child would die. This happened until all her children were dead. The woman was racked with grief, and when she lay dying in her bed, moments before she closed her eyes forever, all the bells rang at once despite no one being in the tower to ring them. Many locals believe this was her children calling their mother to heaven. Although this ghost story isn’t as macabre as the others, every time the bells ring, you can sense something otherwordly in the air.
Just outside Prague castle is a great park called the ‘Stag Moat.’ It is a natural ravine, which was a famous breeding ground for deer during the 17th century. However, the urbanization of the city has dramatically reduced the deer’s population. Although the park is only open in the summer season, standing on the bridge on the ramparts of Prague Castle is a beautiful place to take the scenery.
One of the legends of the Stag Moat is that of the werewolf of Prague. When Rudolf II ruled, he turned the moat into a wild animal menagerie. He kept deer, elk, wild boar and many birds inside the park so that his court could hunt in the grounds just across from their castle. But his tastes for the exotic got the best of him. Inside the park, he also kept lions and bears in cages with viewing platforms surrounding them so the court could come and observe them in captivity. One day, a few mysterious grey wolves were added to the menagerie.
The gameskeeper and his mute assistant looked after the animals as well as the new additions, the wolves. Right away, it was noticeable that the assistant took extra special care of the wolves. Despite not being able to speak with humans, the apprentice started to howl at night with the wolves. He was even seen sleeping in their pens from time to time. The gameskeeper came to work one day and couldn’t find his assistant but curiously, there were now three wolves in the cell where there had only been two before. The gameskeeper was puzzled but thought the only answer was that a lone wolf had perhaps come to find two of his lost pack members.
Soon after the third wolf arrived, the wolves ban to escape their pen at night and began attacking some of the other royal pets. Despite the gamekeeper trying to recapture them, they always manage to get out, almost as if they had grown fingers to open their cage. One day the wolves managed to find their way out of the moat and were never seen again. Rumours of attacks throughout the countryside were rampant. People said they had seen two wolves and a man with wolves’ bodies attacking animals and people all across the country.
Another famous legend of Stag Moat is that of the ghost of the travelling potion seller. The lion master who worked in the menagerie was a cruel and greedy man. Rudolf II loved his lions and considered them one of his most prized possessions, so she spared no expense in their care. But instead of feeding the lions, the high-quality meat they were sent by the palace, the lion master sold the meat and kept the money for himself. Instead, he would feed the lions whatever rotten scarps he could put together.
One day, a poor travelling potion seller walked by the lion’s cages and collapsed in front of the lion master, begging for his help. Just a scrap of food was all he needed to get his strength back. But the lion master refused, and the man was dead in minutes. Seeing an opportunity, the lion master threw the poor potion seller into the cage, where the ravenous lions devoured him.
The lion master returned the next day and saw the potion seller’s ghost standing in front of the cages. The lion master was terrified at spotting the spirit returning from the grave to haunt the sinful man. Riddled with guilt, the man hung himself from bars of the lion’s cages. Today, around the time when the lions would have been fed, you can still see the ghost of the travelling potion seller wandering the moat. Warning others to be kind to those in need.
There have been sightings outside St. Vitus cathedral of a ghostly figure looming over the building. In the 18th century, a soldier patrolling the grounds saw the white figure and approached it, thinking it was an intruder. The figure threw a handful of wheat at his feet and disappeared. The next day, another solider saw the same figure, and this time had a coin tossed down before the figure disappeared. On the third night, warned by the other two, the next soldier was on guard, and when the figure appeared, he shot it on the spot. This time, the spirit tossed the bullet that had been fired straight at him back at the soldier’s feet. The three items were thought to be an omen of the future three years for the city.
In the next year, the crops were plentiful. The year after, the city was flush with wealth from the sale of all that grain. But, in the third year, the Seven Years Wars began, and many of its citizens lost their lives. Just as the spirit had predicted, wheat a symbol of agricultural abundance, coins the symbol for wealth and the bullet a symbol for death and war.
Many people claim that Golden Lane is home to some guardian spirits, which were once tied to this area of town during the pagan era. Emperor Charles IV wrote in his memories that he had seen one of these creatures throw a golden cup across his table in the middle of the night. When he asked his staff about this vision, they all told him various stories of small creatures they had also seen around Golden Lane.
If you spot a black cat along this street, be sure to give it a kind stroke. This is said to be the spirit of a young girl who once lived with her father along Golden Lane. The poor girl threw herself off a bridge after her father had murdered her lover. It’s a classic tale of a young girl wanting to marry someone their family disapproves of. But this father took it a little bit too far by murdering her beloved.
After the young woman found out about her lover, she threw herself off the nearby bride but returns to her father’s house along Golden Lane every night like a cat. Cats are a symbol of rebirth and resurrection, and perhaps this girl was granted another one of her nine lives. She haunts the street in the hopes of getting revenge on her father and searches for him in all the houses along the lane.
The White Tower in Prague Castle, located at the west end of Golden Lane, was used as a prison for noblemen since 1584. One of the most famous prisoners was Katerina Bechynova, the wife of the count of Karlstejn. After finally being arrested and charged with the murder of 14 people, she was brought to the tower. Most of the victims were young female serfs, which had been under her employment.
Some people say the number was probably more like 30 people. She admitted to the killings and even admitted to torturing her serfs by cutting them with knives and pouring salt into the wounds. She was placed in the bottom of the tower and forced to starve, a slow agonizing death. Her angry ghost is known to haunt this tower and was seen almost right after her death. Curiously, only a few days after she died, the judge who sentenced her also died mysteriously, perhaps killed by the ghost herself.
The other prisoner Tower in Prague castle is Daliborka Tower. This tower is slightly older, dating back to 1496 and was used as a prison until 1781. The first inmate, and the future ghost, was Dalibor of Kozojedy. Dalibor of Kozojedy was a brave knight of the realm. Seeing the plight of some rebellious serfs who had been made homeless, he invited them into his palace, where he hid and cared for them. Despite the knight’s kindness, this was considered a crime against the realm, as these serfs were “traitors.” Dalibor was arrested and placed in the newly built tower.
While awaiting his trial, he was allowed to bring a few items with him to his prison cell as he was a noble prisoner. He brought with him a violin and started to learn to play it. He became a very skilled violinist as he had nothing else to do. People would even come to the tower to listen to his beautiful music. The people of Prague came to love his music and also believed he should be freed for his valiant acts. The court knew they had to execute him but did so in secret to avoid a public outcry. The public only knew that he had been killed when the music finally stopped. On some cold, silent nights, people claim to still hear his music play across the wind as it whips through the tower.
At #20 Valdštejnská Street, marked by a golden sun symbol, you might see the “Three Unhappy Ghosts of Prague.” Although they are most known to frequent the streets at Chrismas time, there is always a chance you might see them out during other times of the year. The story goes that a loving couple named Lubomír and Klára lived in this apartment once upon a time. But in 1914, when war brought out, Lubomír was sent to the front lines. Soon after he left for Translyvania, Klára received a note saying that her husband had been killed in battle. She was devastated and mourned for a year but soon fell in love with a new man, Vojtěch. Vojtěch was a coward and of poor health and was not seen fit to go off to war. He moved into the house, and the two lived happily together once more.
But one day, Klára answered the door to find her husband standing there in front of her. Apparently, some wires had gotten crossed, and Lubomír wasn’t dead at all but had been severely injured and had been in hospital this entire time. His face was pale and white, and his body frail from being in bed for so long. He looked so ghastly Klára thought he was a ghost. She screamed and fled, but in her shock, crashed into a shelf in the kitchen, which fell on top of her, and she was crushed to death. Lubomír was appalled to see his wife flee but even more shocked to see Vojtěch inside the house in his pyjamas.
Vojtěch, seeing his new wife dead on the floor, lived up to his reputation and fled as well. But he also tripped running up the stairs and fell, breaking his neck. Lubomír, who had a reputation of having a bad temper, thought for sure he would be blamed for their deaths and shot himself there in the hallway. Today the three ghosts bicker as they walk the streets of Prague, arguing about who is Klára’s rightful husband and who is responsible for their deaths.
Lookout along Valdštejnská street for a sad-looking obese man, who wanders these streets aimlessly. He is known as the “Ghost of the Obese Merchant.” In life, the wealthy merchant would gorge himself every night, even though hundreds of people were starving to death around him. He was known to come into the pub and order three or four meals all to himself.
One night a poor young beggar went into the pub and asked if the merchant might think of sparing just a bit of his food to share with the beggar. The merchant laughed in his face, and the beggar left. Furious, the beggar cursed the man that he would eat until he exploded. Which is what they claim happened. That he blew up right there in the pub. However, I think its more plausible to imagine his stomach was what exploded, not himself entirely. Today his ghost haunts the streets, trapped in his uncomfortable, obese body. His soul will only be freed when a poor, homeless person will pity him and share some of their food with the ghost.
Along Tomášská Street, there was once an old locksmith’s workshop. The locksmith was old and well off but lonely. One day, a man came to the locksmith and offered up his young daughter for marriage. He was desperate to get rid of the girl and thought this would be a good match. The locksmith agreed, as did the girl. She wasn’t pleased about the match but was happy to get out of the house and move on with her life. She figured the old man wouldn’t live too long anyway, and soon she would inherit his wealth and would be able to remarry.
The locksmith took on an apprentice, for whom the young wife took a liking to immediately. That winter, a flu epidemic struck the city of Prague. When people heard that the locksmith had died, they thought nothing of it as so many others had fallen ill to the disease. Nor did they make a fuss when the young woman remarried his apprentice; people merely thought of it as a good match as the two had spent so much time together and were most likely in communal morning.
When people were buried in Prague hundreds of years ago, their families had to pay a yearly fee to keep them underground. If you didn’t pay up, the body was dug up, thrown in a mass grave, and someone new would take that grave spot. When the young wife was sick of paying for her dead husband’s grave, he was dug up, but upon seeing his body, the gravediggers noticed that he had a huge nail stuck right into his head! No doubt what had really killed him. In the clamour of collecting bodies during the epidemic, no one had thought to check if this old man had indeed died of natural causes. The young apprentice and his wife were arrested and hung for their crimes. The ghost of the locksmith still wanders Tomášská Street and is most notable for the giant nail, which still sticks out of his head.
The last ghost we will search out for tonight is Cecilie, who goes by the name “Naked Cecilie.” Cecilie married Mr. Vondřich, a well to do government clerk who lived on Sněmovní street. One night he came from work early to surprise his beloved wife with a bottle of wine and some delicious cheese. When he walked in the door, he found her naked in bed with a young dandy.
Mr. Vondřich flew into a blind rage and stabbed the dandy to death with his cheese knife. Cecilie was horrified and jumped out the window; she forgot to put on any clothes in such haste. She ran onto the streets of Sněmovní street, still stark naked. It was a brutally, cold and windy winter’s night, and everyone had their windows and doors shut tight. She ran around, knocking on doors to see if anyone would let her in and escape her rageful husband. But everyone who heard the knocks at the door simply thought it was the wind, and she was left out in the cold.
The next day, the city guards found her frozen to death in the centre of the road, clutching her naked form. Cecilie still walks the street, trying to cover her nude body, hoping that a kind husband will offer up his coat to hide her shame. Only then will hear soul be finally freed.
This brings us to the end of the tour. I hoped you enjoyed the stories you heard tonight. Whether you are a believer in this sort of stuff or not, I hope you found something exciting about walking the streets of the Little Quarter at night when this part of the city takes on an entirely different atmosphere and air of mystery.
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